Waist Deep In The Big Muddy

willie.jpg

Peter Sederberg used this song in his talk at the Memorial March in Columbia, May 26, 2004, as a metaphor for our situation in Iraq.

Knee deep in the Big Muddy
And the fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep, neck deep
We’ll be drowning before too long
We’re neck deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling to push on

willie.jpg

Peter Sederberg used this song in his talk at the Memorial March in Columbia, May 26, 2004, as a metaphor for our situation in Iraq.

Knee deep in the Big Muddy
And the fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep, neck deep
We’ll be drowning before too long
We’re neck deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling to push on

willie.jpg

{IMAGE1} It was back in 1942, I was part of a good platoon
We were on manoeuvres in Louisiana one night by the light of the moon
The Captain said, We got to ford the river, that’s where it all began
We were knee deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fool kept yelling to push on

The Sergeant said, Sir, are you sure this is the way back to base
Sergeant, I once crossed this river not a mile above this place
It’ll be a little soggy but we’ll keep on slogging, we’ll soon be on dry ground
We were waist deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fool kept yelling to push on

Captain, sir, with all this gear no man will be able to swim
Sergeant, don’t be a nervous nellie, the Captain said to him
All we need is a little determination, follow me – I’ll lead on
We were neck deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fool kept yelling to push on

All of a sudden the moon clouded over, all we heard was a gurgling cry
And a second later the Captain’s helmet was all that floated by
The Sergeant said, Turn round, men, I’m in charge from now
And we just made it out of the Big Muddy
With the Captain dead and gone

We stripped and dived and found his body stuck in the old quicksand
I guess he didn’t know the water was deeper than the place where he’d once been
For another stream had joined the Muddy a half mile from where we’d gone
We were lucky to get out of the Big Muddy
When the damn fool kept yelling to push on

I don’t want to draw conclusions, I’ll leave that to yourself
Maybe you’re still walking, maybe you’re still talking
But every time I hear the news that old feeling comes back on
We’re neck deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling to push on

Knee deep in the Big Muddy
And the fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling, Push on
Waist deep, neck deep
We’ll be drowning before too long
We’re neck deep in the Big Muddy
And the damn fools keep yelling to push on

Make the Pie Higher!

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A poem composed of actual quotes from George W. Bush.

MAKE THE PIE HIGHER
by George W. Bush

I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It’s a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.

Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.

Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!

bush2.jpg

A poem composed of actual quotes from George W. Bush.

MAKE THE PIE HIGHER
by George W. Bush

I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It’s a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.

Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.

Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!

bush2.jpg

Dick Cheney Smirked at Me

cheney.jpg

Dick Cheney Smirked at Me

2003-09-07

Dick Cheney smirked at me,
From inside the safe confines of his motorcade.
And I, on the grass, at the side of the road,
Felt that smirk so fair with a devine ectasy the likes of which I have never known before.
Dick Cheney smirked at me.
No, he didn’t stop the motorcade to talk.
How could he? It wouldn’t be proper. He couldn’t let on.
But I know he loves me. I know it. He loves me.
The Secret Service has my name. My address. My telephone number. My fingerprints. My email. They filmed homes movies where I play a supporting role. It’s all in my file.
He’ll ask for it all. He’ll watch the movies. Then he’ll call.
He will. Trust me he will. He loves me.
Even through the tint of the window, the glare of his glasses, I could see it in his eyes. A smirk that melted my soul.
We’ll have a romantic honeymoon.
Not to Baghdad of course. It’s been spoiled.
Perhaps we’ll honeymoon in Damascus, enjoy the healing powers of the Blue Mosque.
Maybe to Tehran. It has a peaceful, soothing breeze.
If all goes right, we might even go to Pyongyang. I heard that it’s nice this time of year. It’s best not to wait until the winter, when the Yalu River freezes.
Dick Cheney smirked at me.
I know that he went on his way, without stopping.
To smirk at the beautiful people.
Mark, Andre, Grisham, Lindsay, Joe, Gayle; they’ve all been graced by his smirk.
And although they each paid 2,000 dollars for the privilege,
I am sure, sure, sure, positive beyond doubt,
That the smirks they bought at that fancy lunch,
Could never compare to the tender, tender smirk that I received,
From my loving vice-president.
On the grass at the side of the road.

cheney.jpg

Dick Cheney Smirked at Me

2003-09-07

Dick Cheney smirked at me,
From inside the safe confines of his motorcade.
And I, on the grass, at the side of the road,
Felt that smirk so fair with a devine ectasy the likes of which I have never known before.
Dick Cheney smirked at me.
No, he didn’t stop the motorcade to talk.
How could he? It wouldn’t be proper. He couldn’t let on.
But I know he loves me. I know it. He loves me.
The Secret Service has my name. My address. My telephone number. My fingerprints. My email. They filmed homes movies where I play a supporting role. It’s all in my file.
He’ll ask for it all. He’ll watch the movies. Then he’ll call.
He will. Trust me he will. He loves me.
Even through the tint of the window, the glare of his glasses, I could see it in his eyes. A smirk that melted my soul.
We’ll have a romantic honeymoon.
Not to Baghdad of course. It’s been spoiled.
Perhaps we’ll honeymoon in Damascus, enjoy the healing powers of the Blue Mosque.
Maybe to Tehran. It has a peaceful, soothing breeze.
If all goes right, we might even go to Pyongyang. I heard that it’s nice this time of year. It’s best not to wait until the winter, when the Yalu River freezes.
Dick Cheney smirked at me.
I know that he went on his way, without stopping.
To smirk at the beautiful people.
Mark, Andre, Grisham, Lindsay, Joe, Gayle; they’ve all been graced by his smirk.
And although they each paid 2,000 dollars for the privilege,
I am sure, sure, sure, positive beyond doubt,
That the smirks they bought at that fancy lunch,
Could never compare to the tender, tender smirk that I received,
From my loving vice-president.
On the grass at the side of the road.

cheney.jpg